


Worlds Away

by ComingandGoingByBubble



Category: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder - Lutvak/Freedman
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 23:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17497412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingandGoingByBubble/pseuds/ComingandGoingByBubble
Summary: Monty's thoughts during his time fighting in World War 1.





	Worlds Away

He keeps them in his heart, the thought of his girls. It is them that drives him on amidst all of the death and destruction. 

Phoebe’s smiling face warms his heart, whereas the memory of Sibella’s kiss reminds him of his will to live, to survive, to endure this pain and come home to them. 

Some days they are all he can think about. How Phoebe is mostly likely fretting, panicking for any scrap of news, of any word of Monty and how he’s faring. Sibella, he gathers, is probably not doing well, but she’ll keep on a brave face, for Phoebe’s sake, for how horrid would it look for them both to collapse at Montys’ departure.

When the thoughts get too sad, when he starts to miss them, that’s when he turns his attention to what lays in front of him. The trenches, the constant bombardment of enemy fire. It rings in his ears, it blazes in his eyes. Monty believes that he’ll never forget such a sight as long as he lives. 

It’s horrid. It’s terrible. It’s the worst thing Monty has ever seen, and at the sight of all of this death, he wishes more than anything to go home, to Highhurst. 

He read somewhere that war makes men hard, makes men cruel, turn their soft hearts into steel, but Monty didn’t believe that for a moment, for all he can see is men dying, crying, men of all ages, ranks, and social class fighting this war, and all of them just wanting to go home. None of them care for the bloodshed, none of them want this war, but for home and for country, they fight.

Sometimes he wonders if it’s worth it. But then he thinks of Sibella and Phoebe, of protecting them from the enemy if he can protect no one else, and he wills himself to continue fighting.

For them, if no one else. He’ll save them.

In his pocket, crumbled, folded numerous times, are the letters he’s received from them. He’s stopped counting, for they just kept coming, but each one of them fills his heart with joy. He’s written back, mostly writing hastily, not sure how much of his words will be crossed out by the censors, but still he writes. 

Days turn into weeks, and the armies are a stalemate. No movement from either side.

Monty starts to become restless, for surely the enemy will give up soon… or… his worst fear, is that his army will give up. The generals don’t provide much confidence. They seem as stressed as their men. Perhaps they know that they are fighting a losing battle too. 

Night is the worst, when the world is covered in a thick darkness and all hope seems lost and vanished. Any spark of inspiration, of courage is gone.

It’s at these times that Monty contemplates the worst. His mind paints such a vivid picture that it frightens him, for surely one cannot think of one’s death so clearly and have it not come to fruition soon. 

The telegram will arrive at Highhurst, Gorby will take it from the Army Officer, with Sibella and Phoebe hounding at him like dogs to hear the news, to get their hands on the scrap of paper. Monty shudders as he imagines Phoebe fainting straight away upon Gorby uttering the words, while Sibella sinks her nails into the doorway, her fingers bleeding, her face as white as a sheet while she bites at her lip until a trickle of blood slips down her chin. 

Sibella will not be able to mourn him publicly. Not in the way she would want, of this Monty knows for sure. Technically, she’s still married to Lionel, even though she is now convalescing at Highhurst while Monty is off fighting, in order to help the Countess.

Phoebe will be inconsolable. Devastated. Gorby will have her sent to her rooms with Bridgette in order to recover while Sibella stands in the entry-way, half frozen in fear and grief. Gorby and the officer will talk. Miss Shingle will try to coax Sibella to the parlor, where she can rest, but Sibella cannot pry herself away.

  “How?”

Monty knows it is she that will ask, knows that it is she that will be willing to rip out her heart in order to know the truth, and not Phoebe. 

  “Shot. In the head.”

Sibella will crumble, and Miss Shingle will lead her away with each step, trying to stifle the woman’s tears.

Monty has no doubt that the funeral will be as heart-wrenching as he imagines it to be.

Suddenly, his commanding officer’s voice rings out amidst the chaos. Monty blinks back to reality, greatly surprised that he hasn’t been shot during his reverie. 

The words are muffled, and yet so loud, but indistinguishable. He can’t understand a word he’s saying. 

Smoke and blood are all around him, and in that moment Monty’s heart seizes in fear. 

He throws up a silent prayer, although he has never been one for devoted faith, and reloads his rifle.

Monty then repeats his mantra that has gotten him thus far.

_For Sibella and Phoebe._


End file.
